


Sharing policy

by UdSoul



Series: Assholes in love [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Developing Relationship, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Language, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M, Mind Games, Not Canon Compliant, Possessive bullshit, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), They kinda have a heart, Tony Being Tony, Tony Does What He Wants, Tony-centric, Unhealthy Relationships, although it's hard to tell, assholes in love, darkish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 15:37:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10642851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UdSoul/pseuds/UdSoul
Summary: Anyhow, he decided to screw with the God of Lies, what could possibly go wrong?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't plan for it, but somehow it appeared. I don't know if I'll continue this ever, so I'm putting it under the "series" label.  
> It can stand alone, but i advise to read the first part :) Enjoy.

Anyhow, he ended up fulfilling his insane preposition. The vacation truly didn’t sound that bad, especially, when you have an evil God breathing down your neck as a form of motivation or was it a disturbingly arousing nightmare? Ah, forget it!

He was off world, that was the point.

“J, how’s the simulation looks?” Tony mumbled absentmindedly, while tinkering with the wires of his latest gauntlet.

“Sir, if I may…”

Whatever Jarvis wanted to _may_ was overwhelmed by a loud booming sound, when the piece of machinery misfired and blew, throwing Stark away. Usually, he would black out after miscalculation as this, but, he was living with a wicked fairy God mother these days, so, he got only minor scratches and a tiny bump on his head.

The said individual was already down his lab; thus, his epic failure was accompanied by a series of naughty sniggers.

Tony pretended to dust himself, to buy some time and compose his features into a mask of indulgent irritation, but when he did look, he realized something that made the mask shatter and fall down his skin.

Loki was sitting on the work table, dressed in casual _peasant garbs_ – arrogant motherfucker! -  legs crossed, eyes sparkling with humour. The dark path of the laser ended directly in front of him. Stark dragged his eyes up, for a moment. Yeap, the burnt hole was sure there.

“Huh, it’s at first.” Tony commented and relished in the slightly perplexed tilt of the head he received from the God. Fuck, he loved how awesome he was; not only he managed to capture the interest of the ficklest jackass in existence, he kept exceeding in it. “You’re otherworldly.” He offered as an explanation, and if Loki was someone else he would not have understood, but he was LOKI, and it made everything a bit more thrilling.

“Don’t forget it, pet.” The smug bastard offered, grinning, like Cheshire on his maddest days, and an electrical current of furious desire ripped through Stark, burning his survival instincts to crisps.

“Will you ever be _creative_? Or this is the best you can come up with?” Tony whined.

“Perhaps, if you evolve, I may grant you with a more respectable title.” Loki drawled, inspecting his nails. Tony bit his cheek, and squeezed his eyes shut, not to see the tempting picture before him; not to grin and spring into action. He knew what game Trickster was playing, and to amuse him further Tony reacted in a way Loki liked…

That’s really all you need to know, to comprehend how seriously life fucked him up or he it, and to prove that Tony Stark was madder than a Mad hatter he continued screwing with chaos incarnate.

<<**>>

They returned to their chosen roles a month or so later.

The world did not change a bit. Avengers were still running around spewing righteous bullshit. Pepper was trying to control his life, and all of them kept nagging him about responsibilities, morality and altruism. He started to see the appeal of Loki’s shadowy principles. It must be nice to do as one pleases. 

Tony subtly yawned, masking his disinterest under the cough. Damn, were they bleak. He was sitting here for hours listening to hilarious speculations on Loki’s true goals, and had a hard time believing that S.H.I.E.L.D. managed to accomplish anything at all.

The ideas they spewed were narrowminded. The things they presumed could suit a half-baked pathetic wanker that pissed his bed in his childhood and now was working through mummy issues, because she spanked him too hard.

To be fair, Loki had daddy-issues, and his story would not differ drastically from any other cheap soapy-drama, if a) he wasn’t a God; b) a stolen relic and c) got humiliated for doing the right thing and then denied redemption. Not that he asked for it, but, Tony, figured it could have gone quite differently if anyone had offered him a shred of affection.

Stark stretched and side-glanced at Goldilocks.  

Loki was not a good person. Hell, he was a King of dickheads, but he can’t hold a candle to Thor. At least, Loki was honest about who he was, not like some people Tony knew.

Stark could not understand how mentally crippled a guy should be to call somebody a brother; to claim that they loved them; and at the same time fuck them repeatedly in most painful ways imaginable.  

As if it was not enough that Goldilocks overlooked Loki’s torture and allowed some bunch of lowly mortals to wipe the floor with him. He dragged him back home in chains; did not say a word in his defence, denied him the right to say his last goodbyes and then left his dead body in a deserted land, to help a whore that was the reason their mother was killed in the first place.

Tony took a deep breath and willed himself to turn around and stay silent.

Loki, naturally, told him the story to get in his head; to gift him more nightmares or to fry a chip that was answering for believing in goodness of this world, or simply because he was a nefarious prick that took pleasure from Tony’s sufferings.

He couldn’t sleep for a weak after Loki so generously _shared_ with him, and, Stark, has no doubt it was a horrid truth, because the Trickster didn’t sleep well, period.

But, frankly, Stark was operating in hell long before the God came and started playing his little games, and that insignificant fact will be Trickster’s downfall.

Tony did not really have a goal with this. He rarely had one. He was “here and now “kind of person. The only thing he knew was that he wanted Loki, how deep and in what capacity he didn’t care to ponder. Loki was good for him. He wasn’t boring. Tony could spend hours talking with him and still ached for more. That was addicting, and Stark was not known for denying himself the things he desired. It didn’t help that the God was highly encouraging, with his borderline playfulness, taunts and, if mood struck, brazen flirting. Yeah, Loki was _appealing_.

“Stark, did you hear a word we said!?” Fury roared, and Tony made a titanic effort to focus on the _ants_. Seriously, the wicked Witch was an inspirational influence, and ruining experience. After spending so much time with Loki he could barely stand _normal folks_.

“Loki is a cosmic jackass that insists on enforcing chaos on our planet for reasons still unknown or probably because he is sad and lonely, and tries to get our attention in only way he knows how. Is that all or I missed something?” Stark retorted, smirking smugly at Fury’s stormy expression. “You could just send a memo, Nicky, instead of dragging me here and forcing to _listen!”_ He whined, adoring how the group tensed, glaring at him disapprovingly.

“We are a team, Tony.” Captain _Brutus_ reminded him, and Stark grinned at him sharply.

“You are a team. I am a consultant. Which reminds me – when are you going to clear the tower?”

“Stark, we discussed this.” Fury warned him, and Tony sighed petulantly, crossing his arms.

“But I don’t like them, mama. They’re mean.” He whined, making a vein pop on Fury’s head.

“Go, Stark, before I shoot you.” The Director growled.

“Yeay! So long, suckers!” Tony cheered, jumping from the chair, and practically running from the room.

<<**>>

The Galas were designed by the pompous know-it-all to rub the true brilliance of the precious time, Tony mussed, sipping his whiskey. The gatherings of the scientific societies were as tedious as S.H.I.E.L.D.’s debriefings. There were only two people in the Universe Tony was ready to discuss theories and both were too busy being rebellious dicks to come.

Stark half-heartedly debated if he, also, should irradiate himself with gamma-ray or blew up some planet to have an excuse. But, then, Pepper won’t buy it. She will force him to come regardless, and, even if he suffers serious damage Loki will heal him, just to see him miserable – the asshole.

Why, oh, why people surrounding him were evil? Didn’t he deserve a little kindness? A bit of love? Speaking of which...

Stark smirked suggestively at the black-haired beauty who was lingering close to him, and wasn’t disappointed. The minx glided closer, smiling seductively. He spewed some half-baked flattery, checking her out and deciding that she’ll do.

He was zoning out her blubbering, nodding politely at, what he hoped, was the right places, groping her now and then, when a lightning struck him.

Tony Stark was not known for holding lots of respect towards any kind of people, and to strike admiration in him you at very least need to be a Norse God, but the raven-haired stud in an indigo blue cocktail dress, and with a pair of legs made by angels, accomplished it in no time.

The foxy caught his awed expression, and smirked in a familiar, albeit, more soft, feminine manner, making his mouth go dry. What do you know – a mind-blowing woman he was ready to bow for, was the same jackass he wanted to screw with.

That was a match made in heaven, ladies and gentlemen.

Stark leered at the female Loki, and her eyes got wickedly promising, until, they looked at his right and the expression became cold. Tony’s brow furrowed, and, only, then he remembered the bimbo on his hand.

The regret ripped through him, but he forced himself to stay put and play his role. If Loki sniffs just a tiny bit, he will never hear the end of it.

“Fancy meeting you here, Mr. Stark.” Loki murmured, voice so sinful, saints must be killing each other by now to have her.

“Good evening to you too, princess.” Tony drawled, proud that his voice was laced with an appropriate amount of desire which was logical, since he was with a woman.

“It’s a pity you’re taken, Mr. Stark.” She said, an honest disappointment shining in there and Tony tightened his grip on the bimbo, not to do something remarkably stupid. “We could have so much fun.”

“Perhaps, another time.” Tony offered gracefully, keeping his voice levelled.

“Perhaps.” Loki answered in kind and glided away.

The rest of the evening thoughtfully ruined.

<<**>>

Stark didn’t think much about it, except that he couldn’t look at Loki indifferently anymore. The slight arousal was always there, but, since, that night he couldn’t mask it properly and he could swear the bastard knew about it, but, alas, the flirting almost died out, and it should have been a que for him, but he overlooked it, being too busy obsessing over the female form.

The issue became glaring when during another horror-show Loki appeared with an accomplice, and not any unremarkable one. The woman he was working with was attractive – blonde hair, blue eyes, nice ass – the whole package; and the worst part the God was lovely-dovey with her.

Stark sniggered at the picture, and brushed it off. As if such a cheap trick will influence him. Didn’t Loki know any better?

As it turned out, he didn’t. The woman became a frequent participant, and Tony could spend only some time in denial, before reluctantly admitting that it bothered him…a bit.

Whatever.

Loki still spent his evenings at the tower, and they were clicking nicely, until, the bastard spoiled it. It was an off comment, which Tony brushed off with a degrading phrase, but it imprinted on his brain, and poisoned his ego.

Tony Stark was not a toy to play with, and most importantly he was so much better than some space slut.

Tony seethed for a while quietly, then raged for a couple of days openly, and finally came to terms with his _feelings_.

He wanted Loki for himself. Loki was his to screw with, and no space whore was allowed to get in between.

Tony’s patience reached its peak, when during the battle, Loki gently guided her out of the harm’s way, purring: Be careful, dear. 

“What the actual fuck, princess!?” He exclaimed, not caring that he was sounding furious, and disgustingly emotional.

“Whatever do you mean, pet?” Loki inquired, the annoying smirk ever present, and Tony had enough. He fired at the bastard, hoping it will scratch him. But to his horror Loki did not move out of the way. The beam hit him square in the chest, throwing him into a wall, and Stark’s heart stopped.

The Avengers cheered through the speakers, congratulating on a good shot, but all Tony could do was pray for the God to be alright.

The woman growled at him, and attacked. Stark was too slow to react, and was caught in the blast of magic. He was thrown away, feeling the suit hitting up from the inside, Jarvis having problems with controlling the temperature and still thought of Loki.

“You ought to pay more attention, pet.” He heard a taunting whisper, and was ready to weep. Of course, the cockroach was alright. “We are in a battle.”

“Shouldn’t you be worried about your _dear_?” Stark hissed on principle, even though he was grateful that the God caught him yet again.

“Oh, pet, don’t be silly.” Loki chuckled, ripping the armour off him, clicking his tongue when he saw the extensive damage. “Talk yourself out of the hospital and wait for me.” The asshole ordered. Tony bristled, but kept his mouth shut. The expression Loki gave him reminded him that the jackass was in fact a God.

<<**>>

It took him two hours of constant whining to be finally released back to the tower. He was snappy, tired and hurting in the places he never knew he had.

So, when, he got back and saw Loki casually lying on his sofa, he scowled and brushed past him, not even acknowledging his presence.

The God seemed to be amused by the treatment, if the evil chuckle was anything to go by. His mood darkened. Fuck the jackass!

Tony bent to take a scotch bottle and poured two-fingers. He was ready to down it, when a pale hand gently snatched the glass from him.

“That won’t do you good, pet.” The God remarked.

Tony felt Loki’s magic touching him, and it was a fascinating experience, as, usually, he didn’t feel a thing, but, tonight – tonight Stark was moody. So, he pushed himself off the counter and turned, slapping the God’s hand off him.

Loki looked at him indulgently, a tiny amused smile gracing his features. Tony resisted an urge to scream.

“What are you even doing here? Don’t tell me your _dear_ ditched you.”

“Those _dearest, beloved, cherished_ , **Anthony** ” The God drawled lazily, stretching his arm and pulling Tony closer, with enough force to show that any resistance from his part will be futile. Stark didn’t plan on resisting anyway, too flabbergasted by the sound of his full name, coming in that tone of voice with that exact stress. “Always leave. Worse, they presume they have a right to mix in your endeavours; to hurt _yours_. Pets do not do that. Pets are loyal.” Loki murmured, caressing his cheek and healing a cut there.

“May be.” Tony allowed. “But they are, also, extremely territorial.”

“Are they?” The God teased, leaning a bit closer.

“They are!” Tony defended, getting distracted quickly. Those enigmatic eyes were staring down at him with, dare he say, affection and those tasty, taunting lips were so close. “With a strict “no sharing” policy at that.”

“How strict?” Loki enquired, circling both arms around Tony, and pulling him that much closer, their lips a breath apart.

“Accept or go…” Tony murmured, his focus strictly on that one thing he desired.

“I accept.” The God confirmed, and finally, FINALLY, those lips were kissing him. Well, not that much kissing, more biting, with snarls and growls, and passion, so wild, it burned.

<<**>>

Stark returned home from another mind-numbing meeting, to see the God putting a poisonous-green mug into a cupboard, a bunch of other, clearly Loki’s, stuff laid out on the table.

“What are you doing?” Tony asked, strolling down to the Trickster to get a kiss, which he granted eagerly. Fuck, was Loki a kisser, and, than-fucking-you Universe he starved for the affection or Stark might ended up beginning for more, and he totally would – it was worth any humiliation.

“Marking my territory.” Loki answered nonchalantly.

Tony frowned at him, but let it go, since, having a bunch of Trickster’s stuff in his house was not a problem – moving in together was. But he will adjust. After all, it was his idea to go exclusive. Never mind, that this notion of pets and territories was a pack of bullshit – as if anyone will take it…What did Loki say? Oh, fuck! But, no….wait…what!?


End file.
